


Price

by copperbadge



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Infidelity, M/M, Multi, Paternity, Somnophilia, Threesome - F/M/M, consenting somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-07
Updated: 2009-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:31:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperbadge/pseuds/copperbadge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surely, given that Ianto had made his own peace with Jack and Gwen's bizarre sexless love affair, they had <i>known they were having it.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Price

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of the original "Price", written after episode one of Children Of Earth; the original may be found **[here](http://sam-storyteller.dreamwidth.org/126895.html)**. Basically I have added a ton of pornography. This story ignores all events later than CoE episode 1. 
> 
> Beta thanks to Foxy, Anya, and Spider!

The child was beautiful, almost ethereally so -- of course every parent thinks their child is the prettiest baby in the world. But Ianto wasn't _exactly_ his dad, and even the nurses at the hospital had said what a lovely baby he was. Price had huge, brilliant blue eyes and a narrow, well-formed face even as a baby, and he smiled all the time -- widest at Rhys, almost as wide for Jack. He charmed total strangers, rarely cried, slept through the night early, was almost never bothered by the usual colics and colds most infants suffer.

Obviously, Ianto thought, the boy was Jack's.

***

He'd been crying in the archives that day, not that he would have admitted it, or did admit it even when Gwen found him. It was only that he'd come across a research file of Tosh's, and he'd taken it and turned to go up to the Hub's atrium to pick a friendly mock-battle with Tosh. They were always in each others' way, Ianto mucking around in the computer's code to improve the database, Tosh disturbing his files in the Archives when she went looking for cross-references. He could go up and make a smart remark about messy techs, and she'd call him anal-retentive, and --

But he couldn't, because she was dead.

He'd never get to again. And he was used to the feeling of loss, he'd survived loss before and heavier than this, but each time he thought of missing Toshiko or Owen the walled-up grief from Canary Wharf pounded a little harder against his careful partitioning. His pretty life in London was gone, Lisa was gone, all their little relationship codes and quirks forgotten by everyone but him. Tosh and Owen were gone, and some stranger would step in to replace them, which was very hard. And before he knew it, he had leaned his forehead against a shelf of boxes and was crying.

"Ianto, are you down here? Jack wants you upstairs for lunch. Well, ordering lunch, I think he's afraid of the pizza place, I don't know why he can't call them himse -- " she broke off. "Ianto? Are you all right?"

Ianto hastily wiped his cheeks, a fraction too late -- Gwen was in the doorway already, looking at him in concern.

"S'the dust," he said, indicating his eyes. He looked around and took a deep breath as she approached. "Really should bring a broom and some rags down here and do a thorough clean..."

Gwen rubbed his arm reassuringly. He would probably have been more embarrassed, but Gwen adored comforting people, so really in a way he was doing her a favour.

"Come up for lunch," she said, and tugged him away from the sad file of Tosh's research and the dust in the archives.

So he had gone up for lunch, but Jack had seen it too. Jack pressed his thumb to Ianto's chin and curled his finger under, holding him still and steady with the lightest touch -- Jack was good at that -- and kissed him. And Jack said he was sorry.

It was. Well. It was surreal. They hadn't really talked about Owen and Tosh, or about all the other people who must have died on Jack's watch, and whether Jack blamed himself for all of those. But Jack said he was sorry, and Ianto nodded and ordered their food and when it came they ate and talked, once, honestly. And _Jack started it_.

"I've kept track," he said, chewing on a bite of pizza, eyes lowered so that neither of them could catch his gaze. "I used to keep count, but I -- can't count, I lost count. It kills me. The database has a statistics function. So it always knows." He looked up but away from them, out over the Hub. "They ought to be counted. Someone ought to remember."

"It still hurts," Ianto said, half a question. "I should think by now..."

Jack gave him a sharp look. He hadn't meant to imply, but -- "I should think by now you'd know some way to...stop the hurt."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, well, alcoholism has its downsides."

"But it's reassuring though," Gwen continued. "Our records. You. We know we'll be remembered by someone. Even if nobody knows what we do."

"Sometimes I'm afraid of forgetting them," Jack whispered, and Ianto slid a hand around his leg, curling his fingers at the side of the kneecap. Daring really, because he still didn't know where they stood, but Jack had always seemed to take comfort in touch.

"Well, sometimes I'm afraid of dying," Gwen replied. Jack snorted. "And anyway you've less reason to remember me, haven't you?"

Ianto looked at her, confused, and then at Jack, who gave him a perplexed frown before looking back at her. "Why?" Jack asked.

"Oh, you know. You and Ianto. Well, I mean, it seems reasonable, doesn't it? I don't mind, you know, ordinarily. Only sometimes I think maybe...he means...more to you," Gwen faltered over the last words, and Ianto could see there was no regret of the fact in her voice, and certainly no malice. Gwen honestly thought -- had grappled with the idea and, he could see, come to terms with it -- that Jack loved Ianto more. He could have laughed, because...well...

"But it's obvious," he heard himself blurt, before he thought about it. "He loves you more."

He felt a horrified blush creep up his throat, and looked in panic from Gwen to Jack, back to Gwen, to Jack...Jack looked startled, and Gwen looked bewildered. Surely, given that he'd made his own peace with Jack and Gwen's bizarre sexless love affair, they had _known they were having it._

"Okay, first of all," Jack said, recovering a less surprised expression, "Neither one of you gets to tell me who or how I love. Secondly, this isn't a competition."

"No, I know that -- " Ianto started, but Jack waved a finger at him.

"Third, I love you _both_. Like Tosh, like Owen. When I worry about forgetting them -- and you -- I worry about _all_ of you."

"Yes, Jack," Gwen said softly, an undernote to Ianto's hurried, "'Course you do."

They bent back to their food, ashamed, but Jack kept studying them, until finally he sighed.

"Twenty-first century labels," he growled. "I hate them."

Which would have been an end of it -- _oh, Jack's off on one of his rants about how backwards we are again_ \-- except that Jack leaned across the table and kissed Gwen hard on the mouth and, well, Ianto wanted her to know that Jack really did love her. Obviously she hadn't realised Ianto had almost stepped back in favour of her, once upon a time.

Jack leaned back again, and Gwen stayed frozen where she was until she seemed to shake herself mentally and looked at Ianto. Jack was looking at him too, one eyebrow raised; Ianto looked back at him and raised his own eyebrow. He put out his hand and touched Gwen's where it was half-curled on the table; when she didn't pull back, he stood up and circled the table, helping her out of her chair. He cupped her cheek and kissed her very carefully, nothing untoward, lips and his hand their only point of contact.

"If you want to," he said, still cautious, still careful. " _Only_ if you want to."

She nodded without looking away from his face. He smiled and looked at Jack -- they both did -- to find that Jack had crammed the remains of the slice of pizza into his mouth and was trying to wipe his fingers and mouth and chew all at once. Gwen burst out laughing.

"We should leave him here," she said.

"No!" Jack blurted through his mouthful of food. Ianto rolled his eyes.

"Come along, then," he said, pointedly leaving Jack to kick his chair back and follow as he and Gwen walked to the garage.

Jack had managed to swallow by the time they reached the SUV; Ianto held the door for him and Gwen, then climbed into the driver's seat. After all, Jack's little camp bed would barely hold two, let alone three.

He wasn't sure what he expected when he looked in the rearview mirror a few minutes later -- Handy Jack with his hand up Gwen's shirt, perhaps, or the two of them kissing much less chastely than they had before. He didn't expect to find Jack sitting quietly with his arm around Gwen's shoulders, her body curled into his, both of them watching -- him? The traffic outside? Hard to tell. Gwen had her phone in her hand, probably to text Rhys that it would be a late night.

They tumbled out of the SUV when he parked it in front of his house (a small house, but he almost-half-owned it by now, and for a boy from a council estate that was something to be proud of) and followed him up the path to the door. Someone squeezed his arse as he unlocked the door; when he turned around, both of them looked innocent.

Jack brushed past him in the entryway, shedding clothing as he went before the door was even closed. Ianto took Gwen's coat, picked up Jack's, and hung them both as Gwen followed Jack, though he could tell she wanted to look around (poke around) and see his home.

He saw, through the doorway, Jack tumble onto the bed and pull Gwen with him. The extra cash for the large bed had been worth it, then.

Ianto lingered in the doorway, watching, toeing off his shoes and undoing his tie as Jack pulled Gwen on top of him and really got down to a proper kiss. By the time either of them remembered him, he was unbuckling his belt.

"Ianto," Gwen called, holding out a hand. Under her, Jack was slowly wriggling out of his underwear. Ianto tossed his own over the back of a chair, knelt naked behind her on the bed, and wrapped his arms around her waist, smiling over her shoulder at Jack. Jack looked like it was Christmas morning, but there was a sober element to his eyes that made Ianto pause, made him wait to move until Jack spoke.

"Anyone," Jack said, running a hand up Gwen's arm, " _any_ one of us says no, it stops. You too, Ianto," he said, when only Gwen nodded. "You say no, this ends."

Ianto smiled. "Why would I say no?"

Jack shrugged against the blankets. "You have a right to say no to it."

Ianto nodded, wondering if this was Jack's subtle, incredibly ill-timed way of saying it -- _we belong to each other, this is the same as Gwen and Rhys, and you can tell me no_. He loved Jack, but in that moment he felt...fond of him, too. As if Ianto had ever cared, as if he hadn't gone into this with his eyes open. Then again, he suspected neither of them had been prepared for Jack to turn about and be the one to demand a relationship, to want dates and kisses in public and a drawer in Ianto's dresser.

So he tightened his arm around Gwen's waist and threw himself to one side, pulling her with him down onto the bed. She shrieked and laughed, and Jack propped himself on an elbow and roared in protest, but Ianto barely gave her space to wriggle around to face him before pinning her there and kissing her, fingers threaded in her really quite lovely thick hair.

Jack nosed in, bold as brass, but Ianto had the upper hand now and intended to keep it.

"Good kisser, huh?" Jack asked Gwen, who licked her lips and nodded. "Want to see what else he can do with his mouth?"

"Oi, right here," Ianto said, giving Jack a gentle shove. Jack shoved him back, pushing his shoulder down, and Ianto took the hint. He left Jack to distract Gwen with kisses and hands and worked his way down her body instead, tasting salt in her skin, inhaling the scent of her. Jack might have bragged, but blowjobs were a delicately different business from this, and Ianto wanted time to remember -- there hadn't been anyone but Jack for him since Lisa, and Lisa was -- dead, two years gone, mourned but laid to rest.

Still, when he kissed her thigh and licked into her he must have been doing something right, because Gwen gasped into Jack's mouth. When he nipped her clit, gently as he could, she twitched and said his name, and he felt Jack's hand in his hair, keeping him there, encouraging him. And after all he _was_ good with his tongue.

Gwen wasn't especially loud -- which would win him ten quid off Jack, Jack had bet she was a screamer -- but she was sensitive, reactive, or perhaps it was whatever Jack was doing with his other hand, Ianto didn't pause to inquire. It wasn't long before Gwen's hand bumped his ear, urging him back gently, and Jack a little more roughly pulled him up for a kiss, licking the taste of her out of his mouth. A little bitter -- musky -- certainly nothing like Jack tasted. He looked down to see Gwen watching them, sweat sheening her skin, nipples pink and firm where he had no doubt Jack had been paying particular attention. Jack liked nipples; Jack loved breasts.

"Ianto, please," Gwen said, reaching out for him. Ianto went from Jack to her, turning, rubbing a hand up from her stomach to her collarbones.

"That's what you'd like?" he asked, curious that she should like -- him, and not Jack, that she wanted him.

"Yes but -- " she closed her eyes briefly when Jack bit Ianto's throat -- "Condom, we need a condom..."

Ianto froze. Several choice cursewords came to mind. But then Jack's hand appeared between them, fingers splayed, and they closed and opened and there was a small cellophane package there as if by magic. Ianto devoutly hoped it wasn't one of the really old ones that had got shoved to the back of the nightstand drawer when it became obvious Jack was more or less a safe bet.

He tore it open regardless, and batted Gwen's hands away when they did more harm than good trying to help him put it on. He did give her a bit of a show though, her and Jack, to make up for it. He rolled it down slowly, leaning back, sliding his hand up and down his cock a few times. Jack made an incoherent noise, Ianto's favourite kind of noise.

"Let me," Gwen said, pushing him down to the blankets and sliding over top of him, hands on his stomach, thighs straddling his. Jack moved in behind her, his broad hands on her hips, and helped ease her down. Ianto couldn't help the buck of his own hips, which made Gwen gasp and bite her lip.

"Sorry -- " he started to say, but Gwen wasn't paying attention; she was moving, moving in Jack's arms, Jack's face pressed against her shoulder and neck. It was beautiful, really, filthy of course but Jack had a way of making that all right somehow. Jack's hips were rubbing up against Gwen, rutting against her in counterpoint to her own movements, and Ianto couldn't look away. Especially when Gwen began to move faster, hips jerking forward every time she came down, and Jack stopped nuzzling her neck and hair and cheek and looked down at him with those impenetrable eyes he had. Watching Ianto. Holding tight to Gwen, but watching him.

"Ianto -- sweetheart," Gwen gasped, falling forward. Jack caught her and held her as she rode out her orgasm; when he looked at Ianto and kissed Gwen's cheek, Ianto swore and came too. Jack could see through him; had for a long time now.

Jack eased Gwen down slowly, into Ianto's arms, and when he slipped out of her Jack pulled the condom off, knotting it and tossing it aside. Ianto felt something slick and warm on Gwen's back; he hadn't even noticed Jack's orgasm. Jack waggled his eyebrows at them and got off the bed, returning with a washcloth to clean them up.

"Much obliged," Ianto murmured. Gwen laughed.

"Did you say you were sorry while we were having sex, just now?" she asked, brushing hair out of her eyes. Jack settled in next to her, grinning at them.

"Ianto's polite," Jack said, before Ianto could answer. His voice was deep with amusement, a little teasing.

"Jack isn't," Ianto retorted, feeling as if coherence was a bit much to ask when his boyfriend was helping him fuck his best friend.

"So I've heard," Gwen replied, turning to Jack. "Care to show me?"

Jack raised his eyebrows and snaked a hand out, groping her breast. She swatted him away, laughing.

"Anything more than that's going to take a minute," he said, so very unashamed, hand smoothing down from his stomach to cup his soft cock.

"Only a minute?" Gwen asked teasingly.

"Don't test him," Ianto said into the pillow.

"What's my best recovery time?" Jack asked, and Ianto groaned. "What was it, fifty-four seconds?"

"You _timed him?_ " Gwen demanded.

"Spirit of scientific inquiry," Jack said, his voice muffled -- Ianto would bet that he was speaking into her skin. Jack loved touching, especially after sex, loved to rub his face or hands or cock into any little crevice. "It was hot. Nobody ever timed me before."

"Makes me quite unique, I think," Ianto added, rolling over. Jack was, indeed, pressed up against her, face buried in her side. Gwen was stroking his hair gently. Ianto rested a hand on her stomach, curling up close to her other side, and let his eyes drift shut; he expected Jack _would_ try something in about a minute, but when the bedsprings creaked it was because Jack was climbing off, cautiously, and padding out the door.

"Where's he going?" Gwen asked, when he was gone.

"Jack gets restless," Ianto replied. "Might be tea. Sometimes he's gone for half an hour and comes back with a curry. Never really know, with Jack."

"Hope he puts his trousers on if he's going out," she yawned. Ianto pulled her close, a form of their earlier position, her arms crossed on his chest, legs twined with his.

"Last time, he took out the rubbish without any shirt on. He ended up chatting with the neighbour for forty minutes," he told her, grinning.

"How domestic."

"He can be," Ianto mused. It hadn't ever really occurred to him before, that Jack taking out the rubbish was anything strange. Then again, when Jack had started -- wanting more? offering more? coming here -- it had been so bewildering that he'd hardly noticed things like that. It was stranger to have Gwen in his bed than to hear Jack clattering around in the kitchen, now. "I don't know what he told the woman. She gives me appraising looks every time we see each other, now. Might be she hears us, though," he added thoughtfully. "Jack can be vocal."

"What's it like?" Gwen asked, pulling herself upright a little. "I mean -- I've never, you know. Up the arse," she said, and Ianto laughed and put a hand over his face.

"I'm sure I couldn't possibly describe it," he said.

"Do you think we could...?"

Ianto let his hand drift down from his face, slowly.

"Really?" he asked, intrigued. Gwen shrugged. Ianto touched her back, lightly, fingers tracing the bump of each vertebra, sliding into the cleft of her bum. She bowed her back a little to make it easier; he pressed a finger gently against her arsehole, then touched her shoulder to get her attention, withdrawing.

"Bedside table," he said. "The white bottle."

She leaned across him, pulling out the drawer, fumbling with one of the plain white bottles that Jack procured from somewhere -- Ianto never asked where, but it smelled nice and worked a treat, which was all he really required. He held out his hand and she let some trickle out, then at his prompting a little more.

His first time with Jack had been desperate and rough and was actually not entirely clear to him at this point, due to several mouthfuls of liquid courage and a case of nerves. Gwen didn't seem scared or in any hurry, so he took it slowly; just a fingertip, then a little deeper, then when she gasped and tensed he waited, making soothing noises, until she moved of her own volition and moaned deep. A second finger, and he was about to push her a little, just to see what she'd do, when there were footsteps outside the bedroom again and --

"Jesus Christ," Jack said. He had a tin of biscuits in one hand and a very good start on an erection.

"Hi, Jack," Gwen said cheerily, though her voice was just slightly strained.

"I found biscuits," Jack said, rattling the tin. He looked from her arse, Ianto knuckles-deep, to Ianto's face. "This looks like more fun." Ianto moved his hand, slowly withdrawing, but Jack set the tin aside and eased back onto the bed. "Don't stop on my account."

"Well, you really should have some of the fun," Gwen told him, moving away from Ianto gingerly. Jack offered her another condom -- good god where was he keeping them? -- and let her put it on him, then slid up against the headboard.

"This is better, the first time," he told her, both arms around her waist as she lowered herself onto him. He ran his fingers through the slick lubricant around her hole, frowned at Ianto, and held out one hand for more while Gwen rocked a little on his cock. Ianto found the bottle where Gwen had dropped it (the sheets were going to be _wrecked_ by the time they were done) and poured some more out into Jack's waiting hand.

When he slid his fingers into her arse, Gwen moaned again, that same gutteral oh-god-what-is-this sound she'd made when it was Ianto. Jack's hand, two fingers inside her, the other two cupping her arse, moved just slightly as she began to rise and fall, setting her own pace, oh, lovely to watch Jack please her. He loved them both -- and when this was done, tomorrow when she went home to Rhys, he would still have Jack, as much as anyone ever had Jack. He could give Gwen this and not be afraid of losing even one more person, when he had precious few to lose already.

He drifted a little, listening to them, listening to Jack tell her she was beautiful and Gwen trying to say something, which sounded desperately important but just came out in starts and stops between moans. He was almost asleep when Jack went very, very quiet the way he sometimes did and Gwen filled the empty space with deep pleased breaths, and he smiled without opening his eyes. He could hear Jack and Gwen rearranging themselves on the bed, but he was too close to sleep to mind overmuch.

A few minutes later, Jack's forehead bumped against his.

"Mmf," Ianto said.

"Do you need an energy bar?" Jack asked. "Do you want a biscuit?"

"You are unreal," Ianto told him, still without opening his eyes. "You're supposed to be tired now."

"It hasn't really been a threesome yet," Jack said conversationally. Ianto felt an arm drape over his hip; Gwen's, probably.

"It's not a scavenger hunt," Ianto told him. "We're all naked, we're in bed, I call threesome."

Gwen laughed against his shoulder. "Jack's got an idea," she said in his ear. "Look, you can see it in his eyes. Make him beg."

"Yes please," Jack said, voice dropping a little lower. "Do make me beg, Ianto."

"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction," Ianto said, but he opened his eyes and kissed him anyway. "What's your idea?"

Jack grinned. "You'll like it. You get to be in the middle. Gwen, come here."

Ianto held tolerantly still while Gwen crawled over him and then pulled him on top of her. He braced his elbows on either side of her shoulders so that he could take Jack's weight. He wasn't even hard, but when Jack pushed two slick fingers into him and crooked them, he grunted and thrust against Gwen's hips, arousal spiking up his body. He felt almost oversensitised, going from sleep to wakefulness, his skin prickling against the air. Gwen had her hand on his cock, Jack had his fingers _inside_ him, and he wasn't sure where half the sensation in his body was coming from.

"So responsive," Jack growled in his ear, and then bit his shoulder gently. Ianto distantly recalled that this was supposed to be for Gwen, that this was to show Gwen they loved her, but Gwen didn't seem to mind stroking him hard, and he let her be the one to roll the condom on this time and guide him in, Jack's fingers working him open. He thrust sharply, Gwen moaned, and he stopped; Jack eased his fingers out and Ianto waited, spread as wide as he could be with Gwen's thighs around his hips. Jack kissed the nape of his neck and pushed inside him, which jolted him against Gwen, who dug her nails into his shoulders sharply.

"Ianto?" she asked, as he breathed hard against her throat, trying to keep control. She sounded faintly worried.

"Give him a minute," Jack said gently. He rubbed a hand between Ianto's shoulders, soothing. Slowly the tension uncoiled and the cloud in his head cleared a little. "He's not a thinker during sex."

Ianto wanted to object, but it was mostly true. The brain as an erogenous zone was fine, but he'd given up on trying to make things more complicated than they were. Gwen was soft and tight under him, Jack was bloody near fucking him in half, and you didn't need to be doing arithmetic in that kind of situation.

"Feel me," Jack said, and Ianto was going to retort that he couldn't feel much else, when he realised Jack was talking to Gwen, and Jack had begun to move. Pushing, just a little, rocking his hips, forcing Ianto against Gwen and pulling him back -- fucking Gwen through him.

Ianto moaned and gripped the sheets, letting Jack take control, Jack with his hands sliding down Ianto's thighs, one reaching around to press a thumb against Gwen's clit. Jack, grunting and pushing him more, harder, while Gwen cursed and writhed and bucked. Jack, so much their Captain --

Ianto felt Gwen tip over into orgasm under Jack's hands, felt her body tense and tighten and pull him down too. He came with his forehead pressed to her shoulder, Jack thrusting jerkily, almost there --

_Only Jack Harkness,_ he thought, when he could think again. Only Jack Harkness could cause three simultaneous orgasms. It was, on one level, palpably ridiculous. On another, of course, well done Jack, and well done him and Gwen, and clearly their reward should be the sleep of the very well-shagged.

"Gwen sleeps in the middle," Jack mumbled from somewhere on top of him. Ianto felt him roll off to one side, so he obediently rolled to the other and almost fell off the bed. Gwen laughed breathlessly and squirmed over, letting Jack pull her up against him, both of them facing Ianto.

"Fine by me," Ianto said, regaining his equilibrium. He lay on his back; Gwen rested a hand on his chest, fingers rubbing a little in the fine hairs there. "It's too hot in the middle."

"All right?" Gwen asked. Ianto covered her hand with his and grinned at her.

"Yeah, all right," he said. "Sleep now?"

Gwen closed her eyes. Jack watched him for a minute, the way he sometimes did where Ianto couldn't tell what the hell he was thinking, and then he nuzzled closer to Gwen and closed his eyes, too.

***

Gwen understood Ianto's preference to sleep a little apart from them, the second or third time she woke. Jack was a furnace when he slept, and he was restless too, not just moving around in the bed but getting in and out to pee or get a glass of water or maybe wander around in the dark eating biscuits, she didn't know. Eventually Gwen found herself curling up against Ianto, who had lovely cool skin.

"Sorry," Jack murmured, climbing back into bed again sometime around five in the morning. "I don't need much sleep."

"Sokay," she slurred, only half-awake. Ianto stirred briefly and muttered a string of nonsense syllables.

"He talks," Jack said affectionately, his voice that mixture of love and annoyance that so clearly said _boyfriend_.

"Anything interesting?" Gwen asked, stroking Ianto's arm.

"Usually it's just gibberish. Sometimes he says a name. Yours, mine, people I don't know -- Lisa, sometimes," Jack said. He hummed gently against Gwen's shoulder. "Want to see a show?"

Gwen glanced back at him. Jack gave her a mischievous look and pulled her away, rolling her across his body and dumping her on the other side of the bed. She laughed, but Jack held up a finger to his lips.

"Ianto," he said softly, bending over the sleeping man.

"Mfrhhmngrh," Ianto mumbled, turning towards Jack slightly. Jack kissed him, and it was weirdly intimate -- more intimate than sex with both of them, somehow, watching them like this. One of Ianto's hands lifted up and fell, then raised clumsily again, catching Jack's hip; Jack eased himself down between Ianto's legs, still kissing him, then nibbling at his jaw and along his throat, over his chest, skimming his stomach. Ianto was already hard; Jack's lovely tongue nipped out between his lips and licked a line up his cock before he covered the head with his mouth and hollowed his cheeks.

"Shouldn't you -- " Gwen asked, seeing Ianto still asleep, his eyes moving back and forth under the closed lids. Jack let Ianto's erection go, licking his lips.

"We've done it before," he whispered, eyes alight. "It's okay, it's his kink. Well. One of them."

Ianto's hand was holding tight to Jack's shoulder, fingers twitching. Jack bent again to suck his cock into his mouth, eyes flicking up -- sometimes to Ianto, sometimes to Gwen.

Ianto began making soft, short cries, moving restlessly. Jack pulled back, finally, replacing his mouth with his hand, and leaned up to whisper in Ianto's ear, jerking him off. Gwen only heard his voice, not what he said, but Ianto arched almost off the bed and came all over Jack's hand and his own stomach. Jack met Gwen's eyes again, licked his hand clean slowly, and settled back down next to her, careful not to wake Ianto.

"He'll find it in the morning," he said softly. "It happened once, and he thought I -- well, I hadn't, but he said I could. He likes it. Turns him on, knowing."

"Does it turn you on?" Gwen asked carefully. Jack grinned and shrugged against the pillow.

"Doesn't have to. I indulge his kinks, he indulges mine," Jack said. He gestured vaguely at the nightstand. Gwen noticed there was a red beret hung off one corner. "Promise I'll be quiet. Go back to sleep."

Gwen rolled over, facing Ianto, and felt Jack settle in finally, finally to sleep quietly behind her.

***

Watching Jack and Ianto's morning routine was almost as interesting as the night before had been.

Jack got up after another hour or so, washed -- sang in the shower, Gwen could hear that much -- and dressed in the dim light, quietly. When she smelled coffee drifting back from the kitchen, Gwen gave up on waiting for Ianto and took her own shower.

They were sitting at the kitchen table, halfway through their first cup, when Ianto finally staggered out, damp from the shower and wearing nothing but a pair of frayed pyjama bottoms. They both watched as he walked to the coffee machine and fumbled for a mug, eyes half-lidded, scratching his chest absently.

"Good morning!" Jack said brightly. Ianto jumped, yelled " _Balls!_ ", and almost spilled his coffee. Gwen giggled.

"He's fun before his first cup," Jack told Gwen. "Useless, but fun."

"Morning people," Ianto grumbled, the end muffled as he slugged the coffee down in a few gulps and poured another cup. He carried it over to the table and sat down, giving Jack a sleepy, hopeful look. Jack rolled his eyes and stood up, walking to the fridge.

"Fry up?" he asked, to Gwen's surprise.

"You let him cook?" she said to Ianto.

"He's a good cook," Ianto muttered into his coffee.

"Would you let him near a frying pan right now?" Jack asked.

"Fuck off," Ianto moaned. Gwen let him be as Jack slapped an entire package of bacon into an enormous frying pan and began setting out eggs and bread. She had to admit that seeing Jack's capable hands working on food instead of holding a gun or handling alien tech was interesting. Domestic, yes.

They sat quietly, Ianto surgically attached to his coffee, Gwen just enjoying watching Jack work, until Jack flipped the bacon out of the pan and dropped five eggs into half of it, a few slices of bread into the other half. He brought the bacon to the table with a flourish and went back to mind the eggs. Ianto helped himself to a piece of bacon, almost dunked it into his coffee, then looked sheepish and put it in his mouth instead. Gwen nibbled on a piece, grinning at him.

By the time Jack brought the rest of the food to the table, Ianto looked like he was conscious enough to remember which end of a fork to use. Jack filled breakfast with talk, some story about going undercover as a cook in an alien diner, which morphed into the finer points of zero-gravity cuisine and led, inevitably, to sex. It was like eating a meal at the Hub, and Gwen was surprised to find there was no awkwardness. Ianto was surly in the face of seven am, but Jack finally got him to crack a smile and when the caffeine kicked in he seemed fine -- normal Ianto, quick and sarcastic, if still shirtless and unshaven. Gwen began to understand _why_ he was so obsessed with coffee; obviously he needed it to function normally.

Rhys texted her as they were finishing, and she texted back to say she was fine, would be home soon. She understood now why Ianto had gone for the SUV rather than suggesting they take their cars -- it would look much more respectable if Torchwood let her off at her front step, and the extra day off she could take on account of that wasn't a bad perk either.

"You two going to the Hub?" she asked. Ianto dipped his bread in the last of his fried egg.

"Yeah, should check on the monitors," he said. "If nothing's going, might run down to the shops."

"Torchwood never sleeps," Jack agreed.

"Well, not alone, anyway," Gwen heard herself say, and Jack laughed loud. Ianto grinned.

"You believe me now?" Jack asked, settling down. Gwen nodded. "Ianto?"

Ianto, caught with his mouth full, gave them both a wide-eyed look, swallowed, and then glanced away. Jack reached out and gently turned his face back to meet his eyes.

"Believe me?" he asked.

"Yes, Jack," Ianto said quietly. Gwen sensed some undercurrent there, something she was unaware of, but that was all right. Jack loved her, would love and remember her, and it was okay that Ianto had this and she didn't. Because she could, she didn't need to. And Ianto never looked as happy as he did when Jack touched him.

***

Afterward, Ianto was oddly surprised at how unashamed he was, how little guilt he felt for Gwen's betrayal of Rhys. But then, in some ways, it hardly was. It was just...Torchwood. Inside Torchwood, this was comfort, reassurance, a process for grieving. Best on-the-job grief counseling ever, really. So many possible combinations, and they'd gone for it like their sanity depended on it, which maybe it did.

Three weeks later, Gwen found out she was pregnant.

Maybe Ianto had been right to worry about the condoms in the back of the nightstand drawer, but how it happened almost didn't matter. By the time they ate breakfast in his sunny kitchen that morning, Jack cooking bacon and eggs and bread for them, a child of his or of Jack's had been forming in Gwen's womb.

Actually, it was ridiculous that Price should be his child. Who was he compared to Jack Harkness? And Price had all of Jack's easy charm, and was so beautiful.

So Ianto never thought about it after Price was born, or if he did it was mostly to be concerned that Rhys would suspect, when Price grew older and his baby-blue eyes didn't darken. But Rhys's mum had blue eyes, didn't she? Or was it Gwen's mum? Anyway, he suspected Rhys wouldn't care in the slightest. He doted on the child, adored him, bragged about how bright he was. Ianto saw Price often enough, over for dinner or in passing as Rhys dropped Gwen off for work, or once in a while if they ran into each other on the street. Jack made it a point to visit and play with Price and compliment Gwen and Rhys on their son. Perhaps Jack assumed the child was his own, but he insisted whenever Gwen broached the topic, however obliquely, that Rhys was Price's "real" father. After all, Rhys was the one raising him.

"But biologically," Gwen said once, in frustration. Jack gave her a level look.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

Not to Ianto, or at least he wanted to pretend it didn't. Jack seemed actually unaffected by the question, surprised anyone would care. Gwen...well, she didn't have unfettered access to the medical equipment anymore since the new doctor came in, but DNA tests could be bought through the mail and when Ianto found his spare hairbrush missing from his locker one afternoon (and then returned the next morning) he figured Gwen would do the test and confirm it was Jack and hopefully not pester them about it overmuch. After all, what kind of a father could Jack possibly be? Much better all round if it was Rhys --

A week later he found Gwen sitting at the end of the little walkway that led to the Tourist Centre, staring out into the bay. He sat down next to her, waited for her to speak.

"Do you know," she said slowly, "if Price were Jack's son, I thought, it's a bit romantic, isn't it? Not in the sense of Jack and me, I don't want that, I love Rhys. But -- raising the child of an immortal man, even if it is unfair to Rhys, someone who's got genes that shouldn't even exist for thousands of years. Romantic, yeah?"

"I suppose," Ianto said.

"I mean, if it had just been anyone -- some random bloke -- then it'd be, I dunno, tawdry. Shameful. I'd have had to tell Rhys then, because it wouldn't have been...special."

Ianto stared at the water, highly unsure of where this was headed.

"But if it was you, I thought, well. You're an ordinary man. You aren't immortal. You put too much sugar in your coffee."

Ianto chuckled. "Only the bad stuff."

"You're a snob about some things. And not very good with people."

"Thanks," he said.

"But you're my best friend, you know? Sometimes you're all that makes this job bearable. So it wouldn't be romantic, or shameful, or anything really, it'd just be...something we once did. Something we made, that's beautiful. He's my whole heart, he is."

"So?" Ianto said. "What did the test say?"

She glanced at him. He gave her a funny little smile. "I know everything. It's Jack, isn't it? He's too pretty to be anyone but Jack's."

"No, sweetheart," she said. "He's your son."

He wasn't sure if he'd expected a kick in the chest at the news, or to lose his head entirely, but neither happened. A last puzzle piece clicked into place, utterly different from the image he'd been expecting, but...

Well, of course he thought Price was the most beautiful child in the world. Parents always thought that of their babies. And now that he considered it, Price did have a bit of a snub nose on him. Ianto himself had been a pretty calm baby, so his dad always said.

"That's all right then, isn't it?" he said, and pulled her close, arm around her shoulders. He stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, and let her go. "Come on, work to do. Got to make the world safe for the little ones." He stood up and offering her a hand.

Inside, Jack was waiting for them; he caught them holding hands before they broke apart, and grinned.


End file.
